Deliberation
by Xanagar
Summary: Den-O. When Ryoutarou contemplates his future and those he may affect in the process of juggling his responsibilities with his desires, Urataros is there to lend a knowledgeable helping of advice. - Yuuto/Ryoutarou. Don't like, don't read. -


Title: Deliberation

Author: Xanagar

Part: One-Shot

Rating: T

Genre: Romance/Angst

Series: Masked Rider Den-O

Pairing(s): Yuuto/Ryoutarou

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of _Masked Rider Den-O. _I did not gain any profit from producing this fan fiction.

**Warning(s)**

This story will not hurt your conscience, but it just may damage your senses slightly. Beware of the adorableness that is Den-O.

**Author's Note**

I have a confession to make. I really, _really_, love Den-O. Because it appeals to peoples' innocence in a way that very few shows can. And because it has some pretty memorable characters, and manages to remain humorous and adorable while still maintaining its dramatic escalation at the same time. This particular fan fiction is about Yuuto and Ryoutarou. I should probably begin by explaining that the entire debacle of Yuuto/Sakurai/Airi is something that is easily solved if you consider the scenario that the characters find themselves in. Yuuto is Sakurai, and yet he is not Sakurai. Airi is Ryoutarou's sister, but a different one from the sister she could have been, had their future not been changed by Sakurai.

Considering this, it would be accurate to determine that, in reality, Yuuto's future is now his own, because the memories of Sakurai-san have, for the most part, all but vanished from the minds of everyone with the exception of a chosen few.

Having said that, these two characters are adorable together, and after separating Yuuto from Sakurai, their sexualities are pretty much cluster-fucked by yours truly into oblivion, until they're, appropriately, ambiguous.

--

_Deliberation_

--

"_What are you afraid of?"_

The question is, in and of itself, much too vague. To be afraid of something means by extension to fear the consequences of pursuing that which we are most afraid of. Realistically, this narrows our insight, and blinds us to what we know we must inevitably do, or risk losing what may very well be most important to us. Such is the way of fear, the way of pulsating heartbeats and incomprehensible noise within the confines of our own mind.

He questions the manner in which he should speak, grips his hands together in his lap. They are warm, on the verge of sweat. He opens his mouth to speak, but no words manage to escape him. He continues to inhale large amounts of air. He exhales, and tries to focus. He cannot look at his inquisitor, for fear of revealing too many of his intentions, too many of his fears. He wants so desperately to speak, to have a justification for these emotions he calls his own. The Train of Time continues its habitual route, passing through time with effortless finesse. Outside, infinite trails of sand are blown away from the furiousness of its movements.

Urataros considers him, his passive, slightly pathetic persona that, even from his own perspective, is both admirable and slightly pitiable. How fascinating, he says to himself. How utterly intriguing to see such feelings make themselves obviously known, even without Ryoutarou's effort to cooperate.

He takes another sip of coffee, working to avoid another mustache of whipped cream. "May I be honest with you, Ryoutarou?"

No response. The boy continues to look longingly into his own lap, his eyes nearly invisible underneath the large confines of ruffled, black hair.

"I have never known love."

"That's not true," Ryoutarou interjects. "You always have such good luck with girls. Because you always know how to seduce-"

"_That_," begins Urataros, as though the interruption is simply unimportant, "although an art form indeed, is not love. It is but the thrill of the chase, the heightened sense of adventure one gets from reveling in their enormous catch. Have you ever taken to fishing before, Ryoutarou? It's quite similar."

"I still don't understand what this has to do with me," Ryoutarou says, his voice slightly bewildered in tone.

The blue Imagin takes another long, cautious sip of coffee. He waits a moment, considering his options of exactly how to proceed next without necessarily forgetting his place as one of Ryoutarou's vital partners in battle. "I wouldn't expect you to. Neither of you have fully grasped the severity of your situation, yet."

"Neither of us? Wait, who-"

"And it would be faulty of me to assume that either one of you have the audacity to pursue the opportunity presented before you, however tempting and tantalizing it may appear to be. But that's not the focus now; it is to make you much more aware of yourself, and of what is currently coursing through your very veins. Tell me, do you know what some of the perks are of being an Imagin in possession of a physical host?"

Ryoutarou finally looks up. He shakes his head weakly.

"Then allow me to enlighten you. As your Imagin, I am deeply connected to you mentally. Hence, my ability to communicate with you as I so please. But there are other qualities as well. For example, the ability to sense and decipher periodically occurring emotions and thoughts contained within the mind of the host I am attached to." Abruptly, Urataros pauses. He watches his own host closely. "And I don't think I'd be wrong to assume that the vast majority of those thoughts and emotions particularly concern one individual. Correct?"

When Ryoutarou can only stare, unable to properly respond, Urataros takes advantage of the moment, and continues. "Good. I'm glad we're currently thinking along the same wavelength, so to speak. Now to press another point, I don't believe you are capable of trusting your own emotions at this juncture, much less handling them properly."

"It's not that," Ryoutarou adds softly, loosening his grip and allowing his hands to fall lifelessly against the hard plastic of the dining car seat. "It's not that at all, really."

"Excuse me for being so blunt, Ryoutarou, but I'm afraid I don't believe you. If you'll allow it, I'll give you my take on this nice little predicament of ours."

"It's not something you should worry about. It's just something I need to work out on my own, that's all."

"On the contrary," Urataros objects, "we are connected, you understand? Imagin and Host. What troubles you will, of course, naturally trouble me as well. It is my duty to offer guidance to you, at the very least to keep you out of harms way from whatever misleading things the others might try to feed to you."

At this, Ryoutarou exposed a small grin. The others had offered they're help, too, albeit in a slightly less direct way. Momotaros had suggested 'blowing off steam' through training in an effort to forget his troubles, or maybe even 'doing something about the perverted Turtle', as he had so elegantly put it. Kintaros had suggested a nap, after which he then proceeded to fall asleep, leaving Ryoutarou alone with a sleeping Bear. Ryuutaros had drawn him a picture; one that, curiously, featured a beautiful representation of Airi-san standing next to what Ryoutarou could only deduce was a very shocking, very haggard looking Yuuto, having been blasted to smithereens under the might of the Dragon Imagin's slightly devious imagination.

He had stared at the picture for some time, contemplating too many things at once, simply staring at it with low, tired eyes. Ryuutaros had asked him what he had thought of it. He had said nothing at all.

"So let me just offer my own insight, then," Urataros continues, acknowledging the dazed, slightly adorable look of recollection in Ryoutarou's eyes. "You cannot change the future. It is not your place."

Ryoutarou snaps out of his daydreaming and looks up at Urataros. "I know that." His fingers are weak, insignificant as he tries to hold his body up as the train begins to move faster and faster. "I know that, but…"

They enter a tunnel. All light in the car is eradicated completely, leaving behind a dense atmosphere of confusion and darkness. Ryoutarou sits very still; he eyes his Imagin, feels familiar, probing eyes returning his gaze. For what seems like an eternity, they sit in the darkened silence, watching, waiting.

When they exit, Urataros is the first to speak. His voice is even, emotionless, curiously neutral and altogether too intruding. "What are you afraid of?"

Ryoutarou opens his mouth. It is unnervingly dry. He says, "I don't know." Then, "Everything, I suppose."

Urataros waits patiently, allowing his host plentiful time to gather his thoughts, to answer.

"I know I can't change the future, or the past. Doing so might put others at risk, or alter the way time is set. So I'm afraid of doing nothing at all, but that's all I can really do. Nothing." His own cup of coffee sits obediently nearby, rattling every so often with the movements of the train, untouched. "I don't want to risk losing Nee-san. I couldn't imagine her being taken away from me. But…"

"But you also don't want to lose Yuuto either, no?"

Ryoutarou nods slowly. "That's right."

"But surely you must understand that Yuuto is not going to take her away from you. Ryoutarou, Yuuto's future has already been altered. So much so that he now has the ability to take it into his own hands and shape it, just as you do. You're correct; we can't try to change the future or the past. But we're also naïve. We are unaware of what the future has in store for us. Now that Yuuto is in control of his own future, everything is revealed for what it is, that whatever noble deeds Sakurai-san accomplished in the past have paved the way for a future that is completely up to you, Ryoutarou. Well, you _and_ Yuuto, that is."

"But that's…" Ryoutarou thinks about this for a moment, then shakes his head again all too roughly. "It can't be that simple."

In the quietness, he can hear the rumble of the tracks as they maneuver around sharp caverns and ravines. He can hear the heavy sigh of his Imagin as he says, "Well then, I suppose I'll just have to take matters into my own hands. After all, the first step is always the hardest to take, or so I've heard. Recall that I've never actually experienced said emotions, so I can only go upon instinct."

Ryoutarou pauses for a moment, confused. "Wait. I don't understa-" Then, realization. His eyes widen, and he suddenly sits straight up, panic evident in his face, along with a sudden reoccurring redness in his cheeks. "Wait! Don't! That's-"

A flash of blue light. Then, comforting nothingness as unconsciousness finds him, envelops him into a familiar warmth. He hears a faint, familiar voice that sounds as though it may be coming from so very far away. It is comforting, confident.

"Don't worry, Ryoutarou," it says. "I'm quite sure he'll be very happy to see you, too."

**おわり**


End file.
